About as far as you can get from the million-dollar glitzerama going on at Fair Park.
That's not a bad thing. Little homegrown productions like this keep actors up and working (for love, not money). This is a "kids-let's-put-on-a-show" effort that costs about a nickle-98 and gives some young thesps the chance to grapple with semi-sophisticated material.
42nd Street is so tap-happy it'll make you giddy.
continues at the Music Hall at Fair Park through September 1.
continues at the Bath House Cultural Center through September 7.
Director Vikas Adam, who also plays the title character, people-hating Alceste, has taken writer Neil Bartlett's translation and set it in the fashion world. Alceste is a photographer. His lady, Celimene, is a model. Their friends are models, a makeup artist, a magazine editor.
Trouble is, Adam's Alceste starts out spitting-mad and stays that way, giving little indication why Celimene or the older vamp, Arsinoe, would find him irresistible. Adam, who bears a slight resemblance to Dustin "Screech" Diamond, just doesn't have enough "it" factor to make a zesty Alceste.
The actors also get bogged down in the verse-form of Bartlett's translation, which resorts to rhyming "stereotyped" and "ass-wiped," and "woman" with "inhuman." The scansion mimics Dr. Seuss much too often.
So I'll mean what I say and say what I meant; this play falls far short of 100 percent.